


foxtrot uniform charlie kilo

by lazyfish



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Just Smut Fellas, Multi, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 17:51:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17187605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazyfish/pseuds/lazyfish
Summary: An anonymous benefactor has agreed to give S.H.I.E.L.D. an enormous sum of money in exchange for one thing: the perfect pornography.





	foxtrot uniform charlie kilo

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sunalso](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunalso/gifts).



> This chapter focuses more on Bobbi/Hunter and Jemma/Fitz, but everyone is all up in everyone's business; if you're not comfortable with reading smut outside of those two pairings, you'd best turn back now.

Something Jemma has learned throughout her career as a scientist is that sometimes exploration leads you to conclusions you never would’ve considered. Sometimes those conclusions are fortuitous - sometimes not. And sometimes, your research leads you to being locked in a house with three of your best friends so you can shoot a pornography video.

An anonymous benefactor had offered Coulson - more accurately, S.H.I.E.L.D. - a large sum of money in exchange for a sex tape starring his agents. Jemma didn’t know how much money, but it must have been a lot to make Coulson even consider the idea. The benefactor had asked for a “perfect” pornography, and Coulson had made Jemma the one-woman research team, with the promise that she would be discreet in her searches and give her his findings as soon as possible. She had done what he had asked, compiling a list of pornography tropes as well as suggestions for what a possible video that fit those specifications would look like.

She hadn’t imagined becoming one of the actresses, but here she is. She understands it, really, and despite the relative discomfort of the situation, Coulson had made it abundantly clear that any of them could opt out at any time. Jemma knows what the funding could do for their organization, though, and she wants to be a part of helping revive S.H.I.E.L.D.

It doesn’t hurt that the other agents assigned to the mission are objectively the most attractive people Jemma has ever seen. 

“Well, best get started.” Hunter turns the key in the lock and the three of them step into the house. Bobbi lets out a low whistle that echoes through the large front hall. Jemma doesn’t know how Coulson could afford this place, even renting it for only three days. She suspects their benefactor has something to do with it.

“We’ve all reviewed the script?” Jemma asks, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she pulls a folder out of her laptop bag. Fitz sets down their various camera equipment, and then begins unpacking it so they can begin filming post-haste. The seventy-two hour time limit they’re working with is already grating on Jemma’s nerves. They’re amateur filmmakers at best, and unless Bobbi and Hunter have a secret they’re not sharing, none of them have starred in a pornography before. 

Jemma just wants to present a good final product. That is one hundred percent the reason she’s practically shaking with nerves.

“I read it. Wanked to it.” Jemma whips her head around to see Hunter smiling teasingly as Bobbi whacks him upside the head. She breathes out a sigh of relief. Honestly, she doesn’t think that the classic porn tropes are all that titillating - but it’s what they were asked for, so it’s what they have to do.

“We’ve both studied it, Simmons. We know what to do,” Bobbi assures her. Jemma nods. She, of course, was most familiar with the source material given that she’d produced it, but she’s not willing to share that bit of information just yet. She also hadn’t been the one to assign the various roles - though Jemma doesn’t want to think of whose job that was. Of course, she knew that they were all familiar with the general idea of the film because they had all consented specifically to having sex with each other in the various combinations it required. Bobbi had been absolutely insistent that they all directly, verbally consent to the general premise when they were on the plane and out from under the eyes of their teammates swaying their decisions.

“Alright. Well, as soon as the cameras are set up we’ll begin with the kitchen scene, then.” Jemma clears her throat and straightens her blouse. She wonders if maybe she should’ve put on something more flashy. She had been sure to bring her best bras with her, but hadn’t thought about overclothes. It’s moot now… and the clothes will be coming off soon, anyways.

Fitz takes ten more minutes to set up their recording equipment to his satisfaction. Jemma spends most of that time worrying - and occasionally shooting glances towards Bobbi and Hunter sitting on the couch together. They both seem comfortable with the situation, but if it were her… well, she’d be bothered if her ex-husband current-lover was about to have sex with another woman in front of a camera.

“Alrighty then.” Jemma smooths her hands down her skirt, and takes her place at the kitchen counter, facing the row of cabinets she’s going to be searching in once the camera starts rolling. Hunter takes his place just outside the entrance of the kitchen, and Bobbi scurries so she’s behind the camera with Fitz. 

Fitz gives the signal, and the red light that indicates they’re recording blinks on. Jemma stands on her tiptoes to begin searching through the cabinets, muttering to herself under her breath while she does so. Hopefully she’s being loud enough that Hunter can hear her and know that it’s his cue to come in.

The footsteps behind her confirm that is indeed the case. Jemma tries not to flinch when he settles behind her, his hand on her hip and his crotch against the curve of her ass. He’s not hard, and Jemma doesn’t want to think about why she finds that disappointing instead of relieving. Instead she pushes back against him while swiveling her hips, grinding on him.

“Good morning, love,” Hunter growls, loud enough for the microphone by the camera to hear him. His hand that isn’t on her hip begins to slide under the hem of her blouse, and he begins pressing soft kisses to the side of her neck. Jemma tilts her head to the side to allow him better access, overly aware of the lighting and how she must look absolutely dreadful in it. 

“Did you need some help with something?” Hunter prompts gently. Right - she’s looking for something in the cabinets. When she reaches over her head, Hunter’s hand slides further up her stomach, his fingers drawing patterns on the sensitive skin there. Jemma recoils, still empty-handed, when he shifts his hips forward. He’s definitely harder than he was before, and the thought of being the reason for it makes Jemma’s pussy throb.

“I d-don’t think I can reach,” Jemma whispers. She doesn’t think her voice carried enough to be picked up by their tech.

“Can’t reach?” Hunter repeats, louder for the sake of their audience. “I bet I can fix that.” He scoops his his hips upwards, lifting her onto her tiptoes for a moment. 

“Oh no,” Jemma says, acutely aware of his hand creeping ever-upwards on her torso. “I quite like you right where you are.” She angles her hips backwards to press against Hunter’s erection, and he startles her by letting out a low moan.

“Do you?” Hunter squeezes her breast then, circling his hips against her ass. 

Jemma’s reply is cut off by a gasp when the hand that had been on her hip slides beneath the waistband of her skirt. Hunter hasn’t even touched any of her most sensitive parts yet, but heat is pooling quite rapidly between Jemma’s thighs. This has the potential to be quite embarrassing. 

“I think I can think of a better position.” He turns Jemma around with one fluid movement and hoists her on top of the counter with another, stepping so he’s in between her legs. 

Jemma stares down at him, and there’s really only one natural way to progress the storyline from here, so she leans down and kisses him. Hunter’s mouth is hot and tastes like peppermint, his tongue gentle but insistent as he swipes it across hers. One of her hands is cupping his cheek but she uses the other to reach down and tug at his zipper. She aches for Hunter to touch her, but he seems to be too caught up in unbuttoning the front of her blouse to let his hands wander. 

When the kiss has broken, Jemma looks down to see her handiwork, biting back a sound at the sight of Hunter’s dick, and belatedly realizing she should’ve let it escape. Everything is so much easier when she’s focusing on someone who isn’t herself, Jemma realizes. Maybe that’s the key to being a good actor - thinking about the other person.

That is all erased from her head when Hunter frees his cock from his boxers.

“How long is it!?” Jemma exclaims, scientific curiosity getting the better of her as she stares down at Hunter’s erection. She had known that it was larger than average when she had seen the tent in his underwear, but she hadn’t known how much larger - and she still doesn’t. She needs to get a ruler.

Jemma pushes Hunter back from the counter enough that she can hop down, and begins to walk with purpose towards her bag. She had to have brought a ruler with her, right? (None of this, Jemma assures herself, has anything to do with how little she wants to be on camera right now. It is all purely a matter of needing to know the length of Hunter’s dick  _ for science _ .)

She paws through her bag until she withdraws a ruler, packed in case they needed to precisely place props of any sort. This isn’t a purpose she anticipates, but Jemma’s quite thrilled with the opportunity. 

“Did I miss this page?” Hunter asks from the kitchen, bewildered. 

“I think Jemma is a little off-script, babe,” Bobbi says. Jemma doesn’t pay them any mind, returning to where Hunter is standing. 

“May I?” They had talked about touching each other intimately for the sake of filming but not outside of it, and Jemma didn’t want to overstep bounds. Hunter nods dumbly, and she takes his erection in her hand, trying to be as clinical as possible. 

The wetness between her thighs, staved off temporarily while she focused on finding her ruler, returns with a vengeance as she stares at Hunter’s cock. They had all been taken to a waxing parlor to remove their body hair, which makes it much easier to see the full length and shape of Hunter’s cock. Jemma understands the appreciation Bobbi has for it. 

“Nine and a quarter… no, nine and three-eighths inches!” Jemma announces. They’re in America, which is the only reason she’s using the ridiculous imperial scale. She’ll convert to centimeters for her scientific report. 

“Um, Jemma?” Fitz asks. He looks quite uncomfortable. “Can we go back to filming?”

“Just a minute.” Her stomach flips at the bought of going back in front of the camera. “I need to… use the loo.”

She dashes off, finding the bathroom and locking it behind her. Her heart is pounding in her ears and something else completely is pounding between her legs. She doesn’t know which is worse - the fact that she’s performing in front of a camera or that her body is indubitably enjoying the experience of having Hunter in close proximity. 

Jemma forces her breathing to slow, and realizes with a start that her blouse is still half-unbuttoned, exposing her black lacy bra and flushed chest. Her hair is only a little messy and her lips not yet swollen from kisses, but Jemma can see in the mirror what she’ll look like after trying the scene again - how Hunter will wreck her in the best way possible. 

Someone taps on the door. “Jemma?” It’s Hunter. 

“Just a minute!” She still doesn’t look put together. Her anxiety is still evident in her eyes and in the endless tap of her finger against the bathroom counter. She’s not prepared for this!

“Let me in, Jem.” It’s more of a command than Hunter has the right to be giving her, but she opens the door anyways. He shuts it behind himself, and Jemma tries to back up, only to find herself pressed against the bathroom counter. 

“Hey,” Hunter lifts his hands up, palms towards her. “Take a deep breath, love.” She obeys, oxygen rushing into her lungs and carbon dioxide out of them. The world, which had gone slightly hazy, seems a little clearer. 

Jemma takes more deep breaths, Hunter watching, before he speaks again. “You seem a little freaked out.”

“I’m just… nervous,” Jemma admits. “It’s been a little while.”

“Since you had sex,” Hunter clarifies. Jemma nods. 

“And sex with a new partner is always a bit nerve wracking, isn’t it? You don’t know if they’re going to be a good match or if you’re going to enjoy yourself or -” Jemma cuts herself off before she can start babbling. 

Hunter nods. “We can fix that.”

“P-pardon?”

“If your issue is having sex for the first time with a new partner in front of the camera, then we can fix that, if you want to. There aren’t any cameras in here.” The scary part is that this line of thinking reads as logical to Jemma. Her pussy quite agrees. 

“But Bobbi -”

“This is within the bounds of my relationship with Bobbi,” Hunter interrupts her firmly. “If you don’t want to, that’s fine. Say so. But Bobbi is not an excuse.”

Jemma can’t say that she doesn’t want to, because she does. She nods. 

“Excellent. Now, what do you want to start with? Fingers, tongue, the whole shebang?”

“T-tongue?” Jemma repeats, suddenly feeling faint. “No one’s ever done that before.” She knew that oral sex was something that members of all sexes could receive, but she had never been on the receiving end before. Judging by her body’s reaction, though, she’d quite like to receive.

“Christ, Jemma, were all your boyfriends arseholes?” Hunter asks. 

“They were just… vanilla,” Jemma says in a valiant attempt to defend her exes. Some of them were quite nice, even if they weren’t sexually explorative.

“I hate to tell you this, darling, but oral  _ is _ vanilla.” Hunter smirks. “At least where I stand.” 

“Right,” she says, just to have something to say. Thinking about the less vanilla things that Hunter - and Bobbi - do might make her faint.

“Is this the part where you start lecturing me about different sexual practices?” Hunter asks. He’s acting casually still, but he takes a step forward that forces Jemma to back up against the counter. “Because that sounds kind of hot, actually.”

“Well, normally I might inform my sexual partner that foreplay is important part of having a pleasant experience,” Jemma says, clearing her throat. “But I think you’ll find it’s quite unnecessary in this case.” She unzips her skirt and lets it fall to the floor.

“I’d like to verify that for myself,” Hunter whispers. Jemma nods - it’s only good science, after all. Hunter’s hand travels between her thighs to the soaking scrap of fabric that is her panties. She groans as he presses his fingers against her opening.

“P-perhaps you can just…” Jemma’s cut off by her own loud moan when the pad of Hunter’s thumb swipes against her clit.

Hunter clicks his tongue disapprovingly at her half-formed suggestion. “I made a promise. I intend to keep it.” He hooks his fingers around the waistband of her panties and jerks them down her legs. “Hop up,” Hunter commands, patting the counter. Jemma does as he asks, spreading her legs so he has easier access to what’s between them.

Hunter sinks down to his knees, which puts him more or less at eye level with her pussy. “If you want me to stop, all you have to do is say so,” he tells her. Jemma manages a nod, even though she thinks she would have to be rather insane to ask him to stop.

She doesn’t know what to expect when he first presses his tongue against her, but Jemma finds the surprise a delightful one. His tongue is softer than any fingers can ever hope to be, and a little warmer as well. Jemma can’t tell whether she should attribute the dampness to Hunter’s tongue or her own arousal - though the latter seems more likely.

Hunter begins moving his mouth, and Jemma can’t help but cry out. She swears she sees the corners of Hunter’s lips curve up, but Jemma, for once in her life, doesn’t bother further observing that phenomenon. Instead, she focuses her attention on all of the wonderful things happening to her pussy.

It’s been a frightfully long time since she last had any sort of sexual stimulation that wasn’t auto-erotic, and even longer since she’s had sexual intercourse that she would deem satisfactory. Jemma is beginning to reconsider that label, though, because if all of her previous partners had been unwilling to do  _ this _ to her, how satisfactory could they really have been?

“Oh, just like that!” Hunter’s tongue had nudged a particularly sensitive spot and Jemma is eager to repeat the shock that went up her spine. Hunter is better at following instructions than his performance in the field would have led Jemma to believe, and he obliges. He does something different with his tongue the second time - Jemma doesn’t know what, only that it’s different - that magnifies the shock what feels like one hundred-fold, and a strangled yell slips out of Jemma’s throat. 

Hunter circles the sensitive spot again, teasing it but not stimulating it for a third time, before moving his ministrations elsewhere.

Jemma doesn’t realize how much her clit had been aching for attention until Hunter’s lips close around it, and her hips buck off the countertop. She opens her mouth to apologize, but what comes out instead is a wanton, “Yes!” The word is followed by a much less articulate groan as Hunter swirls his tongue around the sensitive bundle of nerves.

Hunter doesn’t stay on her clit for long. Jemma is aware of the dangers of overstimulation, but she nonetheless whimpers when he releases it. His return to her pussy is much welcome, though, especially when he curves his tongue in such a way that it feels like he’s touching her everywhere at once. Jemma’s trying not to be greedy, but the results when she presses her hips upwards into Hunter’s mouth are favorable, to say the least.

He continues with his task with fervor, alternating between her pussy and her clit. Hunter seems to favor the latter the longer he’s between her thighs, but Jemma is  _ not _ complaining as he teases her higher and higher.

“I’m going to cum.” The realization is more for Jemma than for Hunter - saying it aloud makes it more real, though. “Holy shit, I’m going to cum!” There’s no small measure of triumph in her voice. Her first time receiving oral sex and she is going to have a fantastic orgasm, just as soon as she’s able to get that last nudge over the edge. “I’m going to cum, I’m going to cum,” she chants, and…

\---

Jemma and Hunter have been in the bathroom an awfully long time, Fitz thinks. At first he had been willing to attribute it to Jemma needing a bit of a pep talk - she had always been a tad camera shy - but he had sworn that he had heard a yell coming from the room. He had asked Bobbi if she had heard the same, but the blonde had just shrugged, and Fitz hadn’t wanted to walk in on something personal.

It’s getting a little ridiculous now, though. He would’ve thought that Jemma, at least, would appreciate that they’re on a tight schedule already and that taking excessive breaks from filming would only serve to make their stay more stressful. As if it isn’t stressful enough already to have to film a pornography.

Fitz doesn’t ask Bobbi for permission before deciding to find Hunter and Jemma and drag them back to filming. He’s just outside the bathroom door when he hears Jemma’s voice. “I’m going to cum, I’m going to cum…” No, he has to be hearing that wrong. Too much thinking about porn had addled his brains, because there’s no way…

He opens the bathroom door, and the breath rushes out of his lungs at the sight before him. Hunter is on his knees, his mouth against Jemma’s cunt as she squeals about how close she is to orgasming. “Oh, yes!” Jemma cries. Her entire body flushes as she cums, and Fitz feels the sudden urge to look away from her as she rides out the orgasm. 

This entire awkward situation is made even worse by all of his blood heading south, resulting in a rather prominent erection.

Fitz is just backing out of the bathroom when Jemma notices him over Hunter’s shoulder. “Did you need us for something?” Jemma asks. Her voice is professional, as if she hadn’t just been a whimpering mess on the counter. All Fitz can do is gape at her, and then shake his head. He backpedals again, only to find that he’s run into Bobbi, who had materialized behind him at some point.

She doesn’t look nearly as concerned as Fitz would’ve expected from someone who’s watching her husband straighten himself out after a sexual encounter with another woman. Fitz is a little pissed at her, actually, because she  _ should _ be angry, because Hunter is hers, and Jemma is his, and they shouldn’t be touching each other like that!

Except, Fitz reminds himself, that Jemma isn’t actually his.

“Let’s go sit on the couch.” Bobbi steers him over to the piece of furniture in question, pushing him down onto the cushions. 

Fitz tries to subtly cover his boner, but Bobbi rolls her eyes at him. “It’s fine, Fitz. We’re going to see it soon anyways.” That does not make him feel better in the slightest. Why had he agreed to this again?

Jemma enters the room, once again fully clothed. Hunter’s hand is at the small of her back as he guides her to the couch, and Fitz feels like growling at him. That reminds him, though, that he had only said yes to this mission because of Jemma. He had wanted to be there so no one could take advantage of her.

“Why did you do that?” Fitz blurts out as soon as Jemma’s sitting beside him.

She seems momentarily confused, but then catches on. “Because Hunter offered, and I wanted to,” she responds coolly. “I don’t see why you’re particularly bothered with who I choose to engage in sexual congress with, Fitz. It -”

“I wanted to be the one!” Fitz’s face goes tomato-red at the confession. He hadn’t meant to say that out loud.

“The one to…?” Fitz honestly can’t tell if Jemma is playing dumb or not.

“Simmons.” Bobbi touches the back of Jemma’s neck gently. “Fitz wants to be with you, and not only sexually.” Fitz doesn’t know whether he’s pleased or upset that someone else had said the words for him.

“Oh.” Jemma’s mouth becomes a thin line. “I thought - after the bottom of the ocean -”

“I don’t want to talk about that.” Fitz doesn’t want to rehash that experience in front of an audience.

“Okay.” Jemma turns her eyes downwards. There’s a long pause in which she seems to be collecting herself.

“Listen, you two,” Hunter says, voice uncharacteristically serious. “I know that some things happened between you that might be hard to talk about, but this,” he waves his hand around, “is a powder keg for unresolved emotions.”

“So resolve them,” Bobbi adds bluntly. 

Fitz’s first reaction is that  _ they _ are hardly the ones who should be lecturing about unresolved emotions, but he manages to bite his tongue before he makes the already-fraught situation worse. He had made his relationship with Jemma their business by blurting out a sort-of love confession right in front of them, when the four of them were going to be staying in a house together for the next three days.

Jemma doesn’t say anything, so Fitz stays quiet, too.

“Okay, we’re doing this the hard way, then.” Hunter sighs. “Bob and I are going to ask you questions, and you’re going to answer, alright?”

Neither of them protest.

“Jemma, is it difficult for you to think about your feelings for Fitz because you’re worried about ruining your friendship?” Nod. “But you do think you have feelings for him?” Nod. “And, for the sake of clarity - those feelings are romantic?” Nod.

Fitz feels a little dizzy. He thinks Bobbi’s asking Jemma more questions, but his neurons aren’t firing correctly and he can’t properly interpret what’s happening around him.

“Fitz.” Hunter snaps his fingers in front of the other man’s face, and he snaps back to focus.

“Alright. So you want Jemma, sexually?” He understands now why Jemma was just nodding. His mouth is so dry he doesn’t know if he could answer aloud. He jerks his head up and down. “And you want her romantically, as well?” Fitz bobs his head again. “And because she didn’t talk about it since the incident, you assumed that was her denying you?” He nods for the third time.

“So it seems to me, that what you two are lacking is the ability to talk about your problems because you’re afraid of them ruining your friendship,” Hunter says. His voice is confident, and Fitz wonders how long he’s had that particular hypothesis. “Both of you are on the same page, but you didn’t know it because you didn’t ever voice your thoughts.”

And just like that, the months of heartache have been boiled down to one simple thought.

“Fitz, may I give you a lapdance?” Jemma asks suddenly. Fitz doesn’t think he needs Hunter to translate this one for him: Jemma is trying to change their relationship, right here and right now.

“Uh - uh - maybe after we’re done filming?” It’s not that he doesn’t want it -  _ oh, how he wants it _ \- but he hardly thinks Bobbi and Hunter want to witness such a thing, and they’re already behind on filming thanks to Jemma and Hunter’s unexpected tryst. He wants to savor every moment of his first sexual experience with Jemma without having the pressure of a time limit or another pair of eyes.

The silence that fills the room is almost suffocatingly awkward, until Hunter gets up. “I’m going to get ready.” The rest of them stand up then, too, distributing themselves back to their various positions in front of and behind the camera.

Fitz had expected that watching Jemma have sex with someone else immediately after a conversation that could be considered a confession of love would be… well, bad. Uncomfortable at best, rage and jealousy-inducing at worse.

It is not any of those things. It’s actually kind of (really) hot.

The sound that Jemma makes when Hunter pushes into her is sinful and sexual and his erection, which hadn’t quite disappeared since watching Hunter eat Jemma out, is back in full force. Fitz has to clench his jaw from making any sort of noise when Hunter bends over to fuck Jemma harder, because the swell of Hunter’s ass is nothing short of delectable. 

Fitz is bisexual. He knows this. But never before has he wanted another man’s ass so badly, especially not when said other man was fucking his maybe-lover. The confusion of it all just makes it more difficult to keep his desire in check, and Fitz tries to be subtle as he strokes his cock through his pants, trying to take the edge off.

He turns his head so he can see Bobbi’s reaction while still watching Hunter and Jemma. She’s sitting in a kitchen chair, and at first she looks relaxed - bored, even. But Bobbi’s eyes are aglow and Fitz swears he sees her hips twitch with each thrust Hunter makes into Jemma. She is definitely interested.

This puts him in an entirely unfamiliar situation. Less than five minutes after  _ finally _ confessing his love for Jemma, and he’s already envisioning… what? A foursome?

Yes, that’s exactly what he’s imagining. Judging by the sounds Jemma’s making now, and the ones she was making earlier, she is not opposed to having sex with Hunter in the slightest. Which just leaves whether or not she’s interested in having sex with Bobbi. 

Fitz is interrupted in his musings by Jemma making her loudest sound yet, throwing her head back as she grinds back against Hunter. He continues rubbing at her clit until she smacks his hand away, but she doesn’t lift herself off his cock. Hunter thrusts into Jemma a dozen more times before making a sound of his own, one that makes Fitz’s entire body tense. His cock strains harder against his pants, begging for attention, but Fitz doesn’t want to give in. Not yet, at least. 

\---

Bobbi is itchy. Figuratively itchy - she spends way too much on lotion to be literally itchy. She knows what she and Hunter agreed to when coming on this mission, and they had talked long and hard about the other avenues of sexual exploration that might’ve arisen. The agreement that they could both have sex of any kind with Fitz and Simmons if the opportunity presented itself was unanimous. 

Watching it happen still makes her feel itchy, though, and Bobbi suspects it has just as much to do with the fact that she isn’t touching Jemma as the fact that Hunter is. She wishes, she waits, she wants.

But it’s her turn now. The script calls for a neighbor knocking at the door to borrow some eggs, clad in nothing but high heels and a silk robe. Because, Bobbi thinks with a wry smile, pornography. She takes the bundle of clothing into the bathroom and changes into it, relishing the smooth slide of silk against her skin as she shrugs on the bathrobe. The heels are less comfortable, but they make her legs look amazing and she knows for a fact that Hunter is going to stare.

She hopes Fitzsimmons stare, too.

She struts out of the bathroom and into the living room, only to find three pairs of eyes fixed to her. Bobbi has never particularly liked being the center of attention - it’s antithetical to getting information unnoticed - but she could get used to it if it’s always in situations like this. Fitz is slack-jawed and Jemma’s eyes have the same glaze they did the day she met Bobbi, which is a good sign. 

Hunter wolf whistles, and Bobbi gives him a sultry smile. If her eyes happen to slide to Simmons at one point, who’s to say it’s not just an accident?

“We’re all clear on what the next scene calls for?” Bobbi asks as she walks over to where Hunter is standing. He adjusts the front of her robe, playing at being business-like while really calling Fitz and Simmons’s attention to the fact that Bobbi is naked - and has great tits, if she does say so herself.

“Actually…” Jemma’s decided the ceiling is the most interesting thing in the world at this moment, and Bobbi swallows back an amused smile. “I’ve never, um…”

“Given another woman oral?” Hunter finishes as he smooths his hand down the front of Bobbi’s robe for the last time. Jemma meets Hunter’s gaze, and nods. She seems much more comfortable telling Hunter that than Bobbi would’ve expected, and she makes a note to ask Hunter what had happened between him and Jemma in the bathroom (besides the obvious, of course).

“I’m not opposed to learning,” Jemma says, eyes flicking to Bobbi. 

“I’m not opposed to being the test dummy,” she answers, winking. It’s probably going to be a bit frustrating to be the subject of someone’s first time giving oral, especially since her usual partner is intimately familiar with everything that makes her tic, but Bobbi is willing to make that sacrifice. Hunter will be there to coach Jemma along anyways. The only thing that could make it any better would be -

“Can I h-help?” Fitz asks.

Bobbi has died and gone to heaven. There is no other explanation for the fulfillment of her fantasy. Is it a little weird that she’d always had an image in her head of Fitz and Simmons both kneeling in between her thighs, discussing the best way - scientifically, of course - to get her off? Probably. But damn it, Bobbi doesn’t care.

“How about you teach Jem, and I’ll keep Bob company?” There are some times that Hunter absolutely infuriates her, but this is not one of those times. There is not a single better way he could have responded to Fitz’s hesitant request, and she loves him for it.

With everyone in agreement, Bobbi makes her way over to the couch, trying to find the best position for everyone involved. Eventually she decides that laying down will probably be easiest. She hikes her robe up around her hips, throwing one of her legs over the back of the sofa and planting the other on the floor to open herself up as best as she can. Hunter adjusts her position slightly so he can sit with her head in his lap (he has, thankfully, tugged his jeans back on), and Bobbi gives him a brief smile before refocusing on Fitz and Simmons. 

Simmons has laid herself on her stomach, which gives Bobbi an excellent view down her shirt. Fitz is kneeling on the floor next to the sofa, which still allows him a good enough view of the proceedings between Bobbi’s legs.

“You’re aware of the basic anatomy?” Fitz asks Simmons, all business. This is already even better than Bobbi had imagined, because it’s  _ real _ .

“Of course,” Jemma answers, shifting her weight so she can press a finger to each part of Bobbi’s pussy as she lists the names. “Labia majora, labia minora, perineum, vaginal opening, clitoral hood…” Jemma pauses before skimming her fingertip across the last structure. “Clitoris.” Bobbi shivers at the light touch, forcing herself to stay still.

“Excellent. I’m sure you’re also aware of what feels pleasurable when you, ah… receive cunnilingus?”

“I’m not sure I have enough data points on that subject yet,” Jemma replies. It’s actually bizarre how the scientists, who were not as comfortable discussing sexual topics, somehow managed to be completely comfortable when talking about sex in more clinical terms. “I am however aware of what’s pleasurable in digital stimulation.”

“It’s a bit different. Since the tongue is not as long or as precise as the fingers, the tactics used in oral sex have to compensate.” Fitz then launches into a more in-depth explanation that Bobbi mostly tunes out. In her head this involved a lot more experimentation and a lot less lecturing.

Hunter seems to recognize her boredom, and his hand slides to the tie of her robe. Bobbi doesn’t protest as he slowly works the knot apart, and allows him to open it to reveal her breasts and stomach. He smooths his hands down her shoulders before cupping her breasts in his palms, his thumbs circling her nipples gently.

Bobbi arches up into his touch, and the movement seems to catch the attention of the scientists between her legs - who, apparently, do not appreciate being outdone.

The first few strokes of Jemma’s tongue are clumsy, but not as clumsy as Bobbi had expected. Fitz has obviously coached her in the importance of establishing and maintaining a rhythm, because she’s doing just that. Hunter hasn’t stopped his careful touches on her chest, and Bobbi doesn’t want him to. She has faith in Jemma, of course, but she also would really like to cum in the near future, and she needs every bit of stimulation she can get.

“That’s good,” Bobbi offers softly when Jemma pauses to flick her tongue against Bobbi’s clit experimentally. “A little harder,” she suggests. Jemma obeys, and Bobbi hums her approval. Jemma spends a few more seconds on Bobbi’s clit before returning to her previous position further down.

Fitz leans forward to whisper something Bobbi can’t hear into Jemma’s ear. It must have been an instruction of some sort, because Jemma almost immediately changes tactics - and to quite great effect. Bobbi grinds her hips down against Jemma’s mouth shamelessly as the scientist continues lapping eagerly at her pussy.

Fitz shifts, and Bobbi wonders if he’s going to give Jemma another pointer. He doesn’t, and Bobbi’s momentarily confused before she sees Fitz’s hand palming his dick through his pants. He hadn’t been as subtle as he thought when he had stroked himself earlier, and seeing the saga continue sends sparks flying through Bobbi’s veins.

Hunter’s toying with her nipples is becoming more focused as he notices her beginning the slow, steady climb towards bliss. If Bobbi’s body is an instrument, then Jemma is a prodigy, but Hunter is a virtuoso. The years have allowed him to memorize her in ways she didn’t know were possible - he knows the meaning of every twitch she makes, and can respond accordingly. Jemma is doing most of the work, yes, but Hunter is giving it direction. They make a good team.

Bobbi alternates between letting her eyes slide close so she can fully appreciate the waves of bliss crashing over her and opening them so she can watch Jemma work. Jemma’s eyes are bright as she continues her ministrations, and she seems to have abandoned listening to Fitz’s advice in favor of her own instinct.

Either that or Fitz can’t give advice because he’s too busy rubbing at himself, not even bothering to release his dick from his pants as her humps his own hand. Bobbi doesn’t know what part of this situation he’s getting off to, but she doesn’t need to know, either. No matter what it is, it still makes her own arousal sharper and more insistent.

Bobbi isn’t sure who finishes first, her or Fitz. What she is sure of is that she has a nice orgasm - not world-shaking, but definitely high-caliber. She also knows that Fitz finished without ever taking his cock out, and that there’s a mess in his pants that he doesn’t seem at all flustered by. This is amazing on so many levels - and even better, she gets to do it again on camera.

\---

This is probably the best day of Hunter’s life. Never before has he been so actively encouraged to have sex, especially not as a part of his job. He’s getting paid for this!

Under normal circumstances he wouldn’t have been nearly as excited to be paid to watch someone else touch Bobbi in her most intimate places, but these aren’t normal circumstances.  _ Jemma _ is the one currently settled between Bobbi’s thighs and if anything that makes the sight more pleasing. Hunter had liked it better when he was there with Bobbi’s head in his lap, but that isn’t what the script called for. He has to content himself with watching from behind the camera.

Bobbi’s got her leg hooked behind Jemma’s head, holding the scientist close to her. Hunter’s not entirely sure Jemma can breathe, but he also knows that when he has his face in between Bobbi’s thighs, breathing is the least of his concerns. 

Damn, this is fun to watch.

Bobbi’s pants begin to fill the room, and Hunter has to swallow back the sound that begins rumbling in his chest, lest it accidentally be recorded by their equipment. That would ruin the shot, and they’d have to start all over. Hunter can only stand this once, maybe twice. It looks good and it feels good but Fitz has already creamed his pants once today and Hunter doesn’t want to be the next one to go.

Hunter can tell Bobbi’s about to cum probably before Jemma can. Her eyes get a glazed look about them, and the next lap of Jemma’s tongue wrings a soft, sustained groan from Bobbi before she goes boneless on the couch. Jemma doesn’t know enough about Bobbi to know that continuing to pleasure her has a high chance in resulting in a secondary orgasm, but it’s not like Hunter can convey that information.

Instead he waits for Fitz to turn the camera off, and walks over to where Bobbi is still laying down. 

“You alright, love?” 

“Yeah,” Bobbi murmurs, pushing herself up to a sitting position. “S’good. Different, but good.” She climbs onto Hunter’s lap, smirk appearing on her face when she feels the bulge of his erection. “Good for you, too, I see.”

Hunter leans forward to kiss Bobbi’s neck. “Let’s just say I will be very, very happy to begin filming again.” 

It doesn’t take long for Fitz to set up the next shot, but Hunter spends that time quite contentedly with Bobbi on his lap. The single kiss to her neck has turned into sucking a trail of hickies down her throat. Even better, it leaves his hands free, allowing him to cup her breasts in his hand and draw aimless patterns on the soft skin there.

“Alright.” Fitz clears his throat. “Jem, you’re going to have to stay where you are so I can get all three of you in the same shot.” Jemma nods.

When the camera begins to roll Bobbi wastes no time in tugging down his fly and freeing his cock from his boxers and jeans. Her hands pump up and down once, but it’s not like he needs her to jack him off to get him hard. 

He tries to show the same attention to her pussy, intending to tease her to be even wetter than she already is, but Bobbi swats his hand away so that she can straddle him and sink herself down onto his dick. Hunter’s breath is knocked out of him as Bobbi surrounds him, and the familiar noise of pleasure she makes doesn’t help him regain it. He has to bite his lip to keep from groaning out her name, reminding himself that right now, they’re not Bobbi and Hunter.

(Again, though,  _ he is being paid to have sex with his ex-wife _ . Every complaint he has ever made about S.H.I.E.L.D. is completely, totally, irrevocably erased from the record.)

Bobbi’s fingers thread through his hair, her fingertips pressing gently against his scalp and giving him warning before she moves.

The sound that comes out of her when she lowers herself down again is unlike anything he’s ever heard before - and not necessarily in a good way. Hunter can barely keep his brow from furrowing before he realizes that Bobbi is trying to make porno noises. Well, she’s succeeding in making porno noises, but it’s so  _ weird _ . 

To be fair, Jemma’s been doing the same thing all day, but Hunter’s never had sex with her before. He doesn’t know how Jemma sounds when she’s enjoying herself. He knows what a pleased Bobbi sounds like, and this is entirely wrong.

Hunter tries to quiet the alarm bells in his head, focusing instead on Bobbi’s breasts swaying in front of him. Christ, Bobbi has a lovely chest. And a lovely everything else, too, but he’s happy to focus on the boobs for now.

That doesn’t last him much longer, though, because Bobbi lets out another fake-sounding moan. Hunter can’t stifle his laughter in time.

“Cut!” Fitz calls as he reaches over to turn the camera off again. Hunter wants to feel bad for disrupting their filming schedule, or whatever else Fitz is going to reprimand him for, but he can’t bring himself to.

“Those noises, Barbara,” Hunter whispers to Bobbi as she removes herself from his lap. “What were those?”

“The script calls for everyone to sound like they’re being fucked by a blender,” Bobbi answers back. Hunter is certain that is  _ not _ what the script had said, but he gets the point. This is pornography, and if every sound is not horribly exaggerated, then what’s even the point?

“I just wasn’t expecting that. Even when you’re loud, you’re not  _ that _ loud.” Hunter is taking it as a good sign that his and Bobbi’s plan is working that neither Fitz nor Simmons is blushing furiously at learning more about their coworkers’ sex lives. They even look a little… interested. Hunter’s not going to point that out, but he hopes that Bob notices, too. 

“I’ll try to tone it back, if it’s going to make you laugh.” Bobbi rolls her eyes. “And here I thought you were a good actor.”

“Mmm, it’s a little hard to act when you’re on my cock, sweetheart.” Hunter smirks at her. “Guess I’m just going to have to try harder to make sure you’re not acting, either.” Most of it is teasing - he doesn’t want to lose sight of the fact that they are, in fact, making a porno and not just fooling around by themselves - but Bobbi’s always loved it when he challenges her. 

“So you’re planning on giving me a real reason to scream this time?” Bobbi’s breath is hot in his ear as she asks the question. 

Hunter leans forward to nibble at her earlobe. “If that’s what you want, lover.”

“Lover?” Bobbi snorts, breaking most of the tension between them.

“Not my fault I can’t call you wife anymore!”

“Can we get back to work, please?” It’s difficult to take Jemma seriously when her hand is still in between her thighs, but Hunter’s inclined to start again, anyways. He has a woman on his lap who is ready to scream for him, and make her scream he will.

When the camera starts again, Bobbi once again doesn’t hesitate to skip the foreplay and go straight into fucking him. Again, Hunter is not complaining - especially not since he has a purpose this time.

Having Bobbi on his lap gives him easy access to her clit, and he runs his finger across it lazily as she begins riding him. Bobbi’s cunt clenches around his dick at the contact, and Hunter smiles wolfishly at her. Bobbi only leans forward to kiss him. It’s a messy affair rife with teeth and tongue, but  _ fuck _ is it hot to have her mouth on his while she continues pumping her hips up and down.

Bobbi tries to pull away from the kiss, but Hunter chases her, unwilling to be done with the indelicate dance of tongues they’re doing. Bobbi relents easily, pausing only when his fingers pass over her clit again and she gasps into his mouth.

This is much more like what he’s used to when he’s naked with Bobbi - raw emotion that pours out of them in kisses and touches and half-formed words. He’s reminded of how exactly it’s different when a soft mewling catches his attention.

Jemma is watching them. He’s known it the whole time, since that’s what the script says for her to do, but it’s been secondary in Hunter’s mind to the fact that he and Bobbi are fucking each other. Remembering Jemma’s presence isn’t a bad thing, not at all. If anything, it makes everything better, because Hunter wants to show Bobbi a good time even more knowing that Jemma’s trying to get herself off to them.

(He is hoping that sometime soon, he will have Jemma in this position. Not necessarily fucking him on his lap, but hopefully some sort of fucking. He’ll take just about anything, especially since getting to have sex with Jemma at all was a long shot.)

“Babe,” Bobbi hisses, pulling Hunter’s attention back to her again. “Close.” Hunter can feel more than see that this isn’t for show. His cock is drenched in Bobbi’s juices and she’s achingly tight around him.

“Tell me what you need,” Hunter responds throatily. Bobbi’s always liked giving orders.

“Just keep going,” she grits out, and Hunter is more than happy to comply. Thrusting up is near impossible in the position that he’s in, but Hunter gives it his best go, lifting his hips up every time Bobbi brings hers down. Jemma’s noises are getting louder and louder in the background, mingling with Bobbi’s soft exhales and Hunter’s own grunts. 

“Please,” Bobbi whispers, pressing her face into the crook of his neck. 

Hunter gives her what she wants, pressing his thumb into her clit as she drives her hips downwards one last time. Bobbi’s inner walls clenching around him sets Hunter off, and he lets out a groan of pure bliss as he empties himself into Bobbi. 

God, that never stops feeling wonderful.

Fitz signals that he’s cut the camera and Bobbi climbs off of Hunter’s lap, wrinkling her nose as his cum drips down the inside of her thighs. 

“Let me,” Hunter says, reaching for her.

“Ah ah,” Bobbi reprimands. “I’m getting a towel.” Hunter tries to pout, but it’s hard to pout when he’s post-coital. He just wants someone to cuddle, damnit! He’s about to ask Jemma if she’ll do the honors - she, too, had orgasmed sometime in the past two minutes, though Hunter isn’t sure when - when Bobbi returns to him. Even if they both agreed to have sex with the scientists, Hunter doubts Bob will take well to being replaced as his cuddle buddy. (Not that Bobbi would admit that they cuddle on a regular basis, but that’s neither here nor there.)

After the grand majority of the hormones in the room have worn off, it’s unanimously decided that they can stop filming for the day. It’s nearly time for dinner, anyways, and if there’s one thing that gets Hunter hungry, it’s a good romp.

When everyone is clothed again, Hunter sets about making their dinner for the evening. He’s long since learned not to trust Bobbi with food preparation, Fitz is an even worse cook than Bobbi is, and Simmons looks a little too dazed to do anything other than sit at the table. He doesn’t mind being the sole cook, though he does think the rest of the group might be a little chagrined to find out the only edible thing he was able to find in the fridge was hotdogs.

Hunter’s pretty sure Jemma’s going to explode at dinnertime.

Surprisingly, though, everyone eats their hotdog in relative silence, and with relatively little innuendo. There’s not even one instance of awkward eye contact while someone bites into a hotdog, which would be a little disappointing if they hadn’t already spent the entire day naked around each other.

“I’m going to check on the bedrooms,” Jemma announces when she’s finished with her dinner. “I might retire early for the night.”

Hunter is not a genius, but he doesn’t need to be one to figure out that soon, Fitz is also going to get the idea to go to bed early. Not his business, though. (Or at least, not unless Fitz and Simmons decide they’re going to be exclusive, in which case it’ll be his business because he’ll need to cry over both of them being unavailable.)

Jemma, however, returns back downstairs a minute later, looking rather distressed. “There’s only one bed!”

“You can have it,” Bobbi says before Jemma can fret anymore. “Hunter and I can sleep on the couch.” Under normal circumstances Hunter would object to having to sleep on the couch, but these are  _ not _ normal circumstances, so he just nods. At least Bob’ll be with him.

“Alright.” Jemma pauses. “Fitz?”

It’s happening. It’s really happening! His plan has come to fruition.

The scientists retreat upstairs, leaving Hunter and Bobbi to finish cleaning the dishes and getting everything in order again. When they’re finished, Bobbi grabs a book out of her duffel. She retires to the living room with Hunter trailing behind her.

It’s not hard to get comfortable on the sofa together, since they’ve done it dozens of times. Hunter rests his head on Bobbi’s lap, and she tangles one hand in his hair while using the other to hold her book in place.

“You did well today,” Bobbi murmurs as she combs his hair gently. “With Jemma and Fitz.”

“You didn’t enjoy yourself?” Hunter teases, even though he knows what Bobbi meant. They lapse into silence again, Bobbi reading and Hunter watching her.

It’s just quiet enough, in fact, that they can hear Jemma’s startled shriek. “What is  _ that _ ?”

The training kicks in for both of them, and they’re in the bedroom not fifteen seconds later, red cheeked and panting, with an immensely awkward scene spread before them.

Fitz and Simmons are both naked. In fact, Fitz’s cock is still inside Jemma. Hunter is not one to get embarrassed easily, but walking in on your friends, whom you find very attractive, having sex, is… well, embarrassing, even if you’ve seen it all before.

“Why did you scream?” Bobbi asks Jemma, voice flat to keep herself from laughing.

“I, uh… Liquid came out?”

“Female ejaculation is quite normal, Jemma.” God bless Bob and her ability to level with the scientists. Hunter didn’t think his own comments about squirting would be nearly so helpful.

“If neither of you are dying, we’ll just…” Hunter slowly began to back away from the bed, towards the exit.

“No, just - let us get some clothes on.” Jemma chooses then to release herself from Fitz’s dick, and Fitz lets out a moan. Hunter’s worried that Fitz will explode if he turns any more red, so he averts his gaze as Fitz also jumps off the bed. It is more than big enough for four people, and Hunter appreciates not having to sleep on a couch tonight, but at what cost?

Five minutes later, everyone is clean and tucked into bed together, with an appropriate amount of clothing on for platonically sharing a bed with colleagues. Bobbi is curled up in Hunter’s arms, and Jemma is pressed against his back, and it’s nice. Nice enough, at least, that he falls asleep in no time.


End file.
